This post of his, penned on this very day,
the second anniversary of “311”, touched me deeply.

As
technology made our lives easier and easier, we abandoned our gift called
intelligence. We were merely waiting for the spoon to feed us like unthinking
reed.

Like
they built pyramid or the tower
of Babel, we built the
huge kettle with Pluto inside.

Delphic
oracle revived in the crystal boxes to tell us what to believe and stop us
thinking.

We
were banned from doubting and doubters were regarded as heresy.

When
the mountain became valley, the bottom of ocean reached the sun, the wall of
water swallowed our dreams.

Old
kettles – the symbol of fake god- were smashed into pieces. We saw Pluto rising
in the mushroom cloud.

Haves
were afraid of losing all the have-nots. With the pieces of broken kettles,
they built the church to keep have-nots inside. Stained glasses are made of
notes, the cross is made of bones. It’s a floating cottage on the black river.

They swore
they would never open their eyes to God so they won’t have to see Pluto
anymore. They poured wax into their own ears.

Pluto
is not outside of the church anymore. It’s in our shoes, in our pocket, in our
breath and in our blood.

The
letter from our parents to our children were rewritten illegibly, our sons and
daughters read the “heaven” as “hades”.

Haves
are building the army of have-nots and had Delphic oracle tell them to see the
enemy with the closed eyes. You hear the choir counting our bodies and tell us
where our enemy is.

On
the day of the yellow wind, the offered flowers to the lost souls have 3 heads
but the blind never see it. The offered water is burning. Breads are glowing
blue. The voice of lost souls can never be heard by the waxed ears.

When
they notice they killed all the Ichthys, they hear the sound of military boots
coming to them.